By Kathy Dunnehoff
I have to say the idea of getting mad appeals to me, but I’m not particularly good at it. No one’s ever accused me of being a “hot head” with a “short fuse,” for example.
My specialty in the mad spectrum, if I even have one, is irritation.
The expression I like to use, from the fairly funny animated film Open Season, is that something really “chaps my khakis.”
I’m not entirely sure what that literally means, but I sure know what sets it off…
1. Running behind and discovering the gas tank is empty. How long has the light been on? That’s the $55 dollar question, since that’s how much it takes to fill my van.
2. Still driving a van.
3. Putting a fitted sheet on the bed. Why do they never fit after you wash them once?
4. My vegetable crisper drawer which is so low and so deep, it’s where vegetables go to die.
5. My daughters not picking up their stuff in the middle of the living room.
6. Tripping over the stuff my daughters left in the middle of the living room.
7. Being robbed of a morning’s writing by the phone ringing, someone at the door, or worst of all… my own procrastination.
8. Making a banking err that never errs on the side of more money in my account.
9. Burning the last bag of microwave popcorn.
10. Having my husband nicely suggest that I seem irritated.
What chaps your khakis?